


put yourself together

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddling, Disordered Eating, Eating Disorders, Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Intrulogical, M/M, Remus Typical Violent Thoughts, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24694030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Remus has a secret.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 14
Kudos: 249





	put yourself together

**Author's Note:**

> song lyrics are from maria mena "eyesore"

_I want out from under_   
_This confining skin_   
_That I so reluctantly live in_

"Do you have to do that?"

Remus grins at Roman, lounging at the table, waving deodorant stick in one hand and his fork the wrong way round in the other. His brother scowls and scolds him, but he cheerfully ignores it, stabbing the blunt end of his fork into the mashed potatoes Patton put on his plate and sucking off the end with an enthusiastically juicy sound. Roman's look of disgust only eggs him on.

"Cephy." Logan's voice grounds him, shoves him forcefully into the present, and now the thought of his mashed potatoes makes him want to puke, makes him want to scrape his throat with the edge of his butter knife and empty out his stomach of all its contents. He wants to draw ugly red lines into his esophagus, wants to squiggle out his intestines into plump little pretzels of sausage casing.

The thought of Logan's look of horror stays him, and he sits in his chair for the rest of dinner, playing idly with the teeth marching across the front of his outfit, and wishing that he could just _go_. But Logan might wonder, might worry, and he _can't_ let that happen, because if that happens-

Remus swallows so hard, his throat hurts. Logan might _find out_ if that happens. And that would be- Well. Logan breaking up with him would be the least of it. Remus is already loud and gross and trashy. The others (particularly Roman) already question why he's chosen to throw in his lot with _Remus_ , of all people. He's heard them, although they didn't know it. If Logan knew why Remus eats things like deodorant sticks and crumpled up newspaper balls, if Logan knew that Remus liked to go days without putting a single crumb of proper food between his lips and mashing it up with his teeth, if he knew sometimes Remus throws it all back up or runs around in his side of the Imagination until his chest hurts and his breath feels like his lungs are being stitched together...

"Are you done?" Logan asks, breaking his reverie, and Remus nods without looking up, completely missing the worried glance shared around the table.

_And it's alright_   
_I'm alright_   
_I want to be okay_   
_I've seen it before_   
_This eyesore, it's me_

"Cephy?" Logan taps on his bedroom door. Remus looks up in alarm, his shins bloodied from an impromptu, completely purposeful run-in with a were-bear in the Imagination after dinner.

"Coming!" He chirps anyway, shoving down his pants legs with one hand and hopping toward the door. It opens just before he reaches it, revealing the worried cast of Logan's face.

"Are you all right?" Logan asks.

"Never better, Lo Lo!" Remus says brightly, because he doesn't know how to say anything else. Logan adjusts his tie and clears his throat.

"May I come in?" He requests. Remus wordlessly steps aside, already beginning to fidget from foot to foot. His legs sting. 

"Remus?" Logan asks, his voice tiny and wet and alarmed, and Remus realizes with a sinking heart his floor is covered in splotches of blood.

"It's art!" He says, as cheerfully as he can. If it was Roman, maybe he would be believed. Logan knows better.

"Cephy, what happened?" Logan asks. Remus sighs, flopping down on the bed and yanking up his pants to reveal the wicked, long scratches, still oozing bright red drops of blood. He wants to smear them around into some scarlet ink blot, but Logan's already summoned the first aid kit. He rests one arm over his eyes instead.

"Were-bear," he says succinctly. 

"Remus, you and I both know that were-bears don't just attack you," Logan says, and his tone is so soft, so _understanding_ , that Remus feels his eyes prickle.

"Still a were-bear," he maintains, stubborn. His voice is thick with unshed tears.

"Cephy, what's wrong?" Logan asks, carefully tending to his wounds. His eyes are bright with their own tears behind his glasses, Remus discovers upon a quick peek. "I know something's wrong. I know _you_. And I know something's been wrong for a long, long time."

"You'll leave me," Remus accuses, his voice wavering. To his relief, Logan doesn't immediately deny it, just looks thoughtful for a moment.

"I suppose I shall have to prove otherwise to you," Logan says. "As there are very, very few things that would make me leave you. And I do not believe that you are about to tell me one of those things."

It spills out then, like poison lanced from a rancid open wound, in bursts and freshets of tear-choked words and held back sniffles. Remus lays it all bare, holds nothing back, rushes from one topic to another, then circles back around to probe and pry at yet another sore spot. When he's done, he takes a deep, cleansing breath, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen, his mustache soaked.

"I'm not leaving you," Logan says, once it's clear that Remus has finished. "I love you, cephy. I can't pretend I know what it feels like, or that I know what to do. I don't know how to fix you. I can't. But I- I can listen to you. I can help. The others can help, too, if you want, but that- that's up to you."

"Later," Remus mumbles. He feels like he's been dragged through a sewer backwards. "Not- not yet."

"All right," Logan says. He finished dressing Remus's wounds a while ago, but only now does he set the first aid kit aside and move to sit next to Remus on the bed. Remus lunges into his side, letting Logan's arms close around him.

"It will be all right," Logan whispers. Remus looks up.

"Do you promise?" He asks. Logan presses a kiss to his temple.

"Yes," he says. "I can't promise _when_ , but I can promise you that. It will be all right."


End file.
